When I'm with Him
by Finnian4ever
Summary: When he stays with me in the evenings, shedding his black uniform to reveal the pale body beneath and joining me in my bed...those are the nights I lose myself completely. Only remnants of Ciel Phantomhive remain in the boy who gives himself completely to his demon.


This is my first time writing a Ciel POV...just exploring a bit more of what might be going on in Ciel's head and emotions. I hope you enjoy!

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I never thought it would be so easy to forget. The hardships I've endured seemed so indelibly marked upon my soul that I never thought they could be so easily and swiftly wiped away. My anger ran so deep I never considered that it could be ripped right out of me and replaced with something far sweeter and kinder. The memories that haunted me at night were so horrific I never dreamed they could be chased away. But when I'm with him...I forget everything.

When he stays with me in the evenings, shedding his black uniform to reveal the pale body beneath and joining me in my bed...those are the nights I lose myself completely. Only remnants of Ciel Phantomhive remain in the boy who gives himself completely to his demon. The orders are rare in these times, only surfacing if I am teased past resolve and cannot bear to play along any more. The worldly-wise frown is transformed into knit bows and an open, pleading mouth. He moulds me into someone who is mad with longing, openly pleading for what he wants. He tears into my reserved mask with gentle lips and fingers as effectively as the sharpest claws, breaking it down until it hangs in shreds around my writhing, panting form. His soft, full lips drown my screams of terror in the night, transforming them into little kittenish sounds of want. That mouth is so gentle as it sips from my own, as slow as it needs to be to ensure I won't be afraid. My hands lose their way in the long strands of his soft hair as I stroke it, pull his head closer to me, deeper...more...

I feel a fool for waiting so long to give in to this intoxicating dance, this incredible release that washed away all worries and pains, if only for a time. I discovered it quite by accident, when I found myself wandering the halls in the dead of night. The horrors chasing me in my dreams could only trail me as ghosts through this darkness, brought to life by my own memories. It was better than being trapped in sleep and subjected to their tortures. I did not want to go where I ended up going. I did not really want to go anywhere, but my feet kept moving, slowly trying to escape the sinking in my stomach, the knot in my throat. I found myself standing at the divide of hallways; one led to the lower servant's quarters, and the other led to the one bedroom that was occupied by the only higher-ranking servant in the house. I released a resigned sigh, feeling as though I could see it in the cold air as I started walking toward Sebastian's bedroom door. I was not surprised when the door opened as I approached, and Sebastian, fully garbed, gestured me inside with his polite smile. In his room, spacious for a servant's, he prepared tea for me over his fireplace, with a worn but polished kettle. I sat on his bed without a word, and when he handed me the teacup he broke the silence, asking me why I had come to him.

Something broke within me that night, something that I had sworn would always stay strong to hold back the roiling poison of fear, horror, and weakness that rested within me. I told him of my dreams, my horrors , my overwhelming fears. And when I was finished, and I was panting, tears resting in my eyes, I waited. I waited for him to laugh at me, to call me disgracefully fragile, abhorrent to him. Instead I felt a soft hand on my cheek, stroking away the tears that had escaped my eyes. His embrace was so unexpected that everything I had just divulged disappeared in the face of my shock. Whether or not this had been his intent is still unclear to me. What I am sure of is that was the first time he drove my worries from me with his body.

He made love to me that night for the first time, laying me out on his very own bed in the low light of a dying fire, and teaching me all the pleasures he could give my body. I loved it. I loved it so much that I couldn't stop. I can't recall how many times that night he plunged his own flesh within my own, erasing my cares as though erasing the past itself. I allowed him to guide me that night, giving all of myself to him and following where he lead. I found that he had needed it as much as I had. The difference was that I had not known this. I had been unaware of my own needs, while Sebastian had been craving my body for years. He had been holding back his lust as well as his hunger, but one helped suppress the other. He told me between uncharacteristic panting breaths how much he adored me, desired me alone out of all the humans available for his pleasure. This was a welcome discovery, one that I had not even considered until it was upon me. But the truth was overwhelming. I needed to be touched, I needed those loving kisses and sweet words, needed to feel so loved and wanted, desired, that my body would be adored and pleasured to the point where I could not think of anything else. This was the magic of the act; to drown in the soul-trembling excitement and goodness of stroking hands, kissing and suckling mouths, and thrusting hips.

Nearly every night since I had him in my bed. Only when I was exhausted beyond my physical limits would we not couple. Even then I was not deprived of his body. He would still wrap me up in his arms at night and curve his body around mine, giving me all the warmth and closeness I could possibly crave. All our prickly quipping and disagreements did not exist here. Not here, in our bed.

This night feels very much like that first, nearly a year ago, because of how softly he is treating me to start. It matters not how many times he takes me or, (on rare occasions) I take him, every time is wonderful. Unlike that first night, however, there is a storm raging beyond the strong walls and windows of my mansion. Thunder rolls outside and I tremble slightly in his arms.

"Hush, young lord," he whispers, so softly against my ear, "you're safe in my arms."

He pulls me even closer as he says this, planting kisses all along my jaw line. I let myself grow weak in every way possible. I care not in these moments what he thinks of me, how human he deems me to be. All I can spare a thought for is his strong body supporting my own as I lean on him, my legs draped around his waist. I placed my head to his chest and listened to the steady heartbeat that so convincingly mimicked a human's. It was soothing, and I let it relax me as gentle fingertips trace the line of my spine, branching out to rub circles on flesh that he and I both have found to be almost unbearably sensitive. When he plays his touches on my back he can ensure that I will gasp, whine, and shiver against him, clinging to him. I take these times to adore his neck; he has such a delightfully pale, soft neck, and so gracefully long that I cannot take my fill of kissing and stroking along both sides. It draws my lips, inexorably leading me to lavish my open mouth upon it, and I love the smoothness of the flesh beneath my lips, the little breaths and chuckles that escape Sebastian as I continue to devour him.

When I'm with him...he draws the pain right out of me.

He lets me touch him, encouraging my attentions as I run my hands greedily over his perfect, masculine chest. His hands hold me at the waist, resting for the moment so I won't be distracted. His touch has that affect at times, interrupting me when I'm trying to explore him and turning my mind to my own pleasure. This time, he leans back against the headboard, holding me on his lap and letting me do as I wished. It is so wonderful to be given that lovely body to explore. Regardless of how many times he offers himself up to my touch, I never tire of him. The feel of his skin makes my own shiver with the need to press my own against it, to feel that smoothness, that perfection. I press my eager kisses to the strong cap of his shoulder, down his chest, bending down to nuzzle his nipple before I flick it with my tongue, loving how it buds up at once.

"Little tease..." He speaks much more than I do when we do this; I need my breath to gasp and moan rather than speak, but he is able to do all at once, and arouse me effortlessly with his constant suggestions and comments. "Such a generous little master."

He uses the word 'little' for me very often in bed, which I find surprisingly erotic when otherwise I would grow angry. It is true, after all; compared to him I am so very small. While it is blindingly obvious, I would never acknowledge this fact from day to day, being self-conscious about my childish stature. Sebastian's teasing on this subject never failed to anger me during any other time. But when we're like this, it is alright. It is wonderful. It is sweet. When I'm with him...I love being a little doll in his large hands.

He startles me by biting down on my shoulder suddenly.

"Sebastian!" I cry. "What are you doing?"

He pulls back to look at me with questioning eyes.

"Trying something a bit more rough, master. It is not to your liking?"

I frown at him and shake my head.

"Not at all! Why on earth would you do that?!"

"How else am I to discover whether you like it or not?"

"I do not fancy pain, Sebastian. I have felt enough in my heart and body for two lifetimes, I do not wish to feel it in my bed. Especially not at your hands."

I can feel my eyes going soft as I take up one of his hands and press it to the side of my face.

"I understand that you thrive on cruelty, Sebastian," I tell him, "you treat me as cruelly as your position allows you; wounding me with your veiled insults every day...but...not here..."

I turn my face in his hand to kiss his palm gently. I feel the pulse flutter under my tongue as I slide it along his wrist, tasting the salt of his skin.

"Here...I need you to be gentle. I need your soft touches...your silky lips...your low voice...be gentle with me always when in my bed. Understood?"

The last word comes out as nothing more than a huff of air breathed out as he caresses my neck with his mouth.

"Perfectly, my lord."

He rumbles back to me, and I sigh as he gentles his touches, just letting his fingers trail like feathers down my arms, my thighs, my calves.

"Kiss my ear." I whisper to him, moaning with the lightness of his touches. His lips are like silk as they nibble on the curves of my ear, knowing just what I want, how I like it.

"The...the s-small of my back..." I whimper, arching forward a bit to press my hips into his stomach.

He follows my request, his fingertips trailing up my bare rear end to trace circles around the slight indents that grace my lower back, just above my nether region. I instantly begin to shake, feeling like I'm trembling to pieces in his hands as he does that, an almost painful pleasure tingling through the flesh there, as if there were a thousand nerves laid bare in that one small strip of flesh.

"T-t-touch my cock!" I gasp as I squirm against him. "W-with one hand...the other...keep it doing...that..."

Immediately my cock is surrounded by the incredibly intimate embrace of his large hand. It is so warm...I always marveled at just how warm it felt to be touched by my demon.

Between the fingers in the dimples of my lower back, and his other hand on my cock, I am nearly shaking what little flesh I have off my bones. I throw myself forward and I tug at his hair, a sign that he knows well. He responds to my unspoken request and turns us over, laying himself over me. I especially love laying on my back like this while he drives me mad. The feeling of helplessness in this position excites me, having to maintain control every other hour of every day, but here, here I can release it all, hand it over to him.

"M-make me ready for you..." I whisper, and I spread my legs open for him.

He smirks at me as he runs his hands over my quivering thighs.

"You look quite ready enough." He quips.

I kick him in his side. Not hard enough to hurt him, just reprimand his words. I am too far gone to engage in quipping right now.

His lips are sweet on the tender skin of my knee, where they start their slow journey down my leg toward my waiting member. He likes to tease me some nights, while others he does not. This night he does, and flicks his tongue in the hollow between my hip and my groin. It always makes me arch slightly and give a whine.

"Sebastian!" I cry, frustrated. He placates me with a gentle tug on my member, which draws a low, strangled groan from my mouth. I chase the touch, jolting my hips forward in hopes that he will continue to stroke me. But instead he draws his hand away and slides his fingers ever-so-sensually into his mouth. He made sure to hold my eyes as he nearly swallowed those two finger, sucking on them as though planning to devour them. The sight always drove me crazy, my cock throbbing with envy for those finger, aching to be inside that heavenly wet cavern of sin that could clench me so deliciously.

But I knew something just as good was coming, and I waited, if impatiently. Finally he drew his fingers from his mouth and took a second to slowly chase the excess wetness around his lips with his dexterous tongue. Then he rubbed one of those wet fingers against my opening. I loved when he did that.

Before I had railed about how dirty an action it was, but now I crave it; the press of those fingers, the deep tantalizing massage that they always give me unless I command him to hurry. I do tonight, telling him I want it _now_. He therefore wastes little time teasing the little folds of my opening, but slides his fingers inside.

"Ahhh...yyyes." I sigh, clenching around him intentionally. I glanced up to see his eyebrows twitch, and I grin up at him wickedly. I love teasing him like that, making his cock jealous of his fingers just as mine always was when he sucked on them. I love clenching down on them and making him breathe faster, showing the utter want on his face. I can see just how desperate he is to bury that large cock inside of me, and I love the power it gives me.

"Come into me, Sebastian." I groan, opening my arms, inviting him to drape his body over mine and let me hold him. He does so, dipping his face down to smother my cheek with firm, eager kisses that stir my heart. Then he removes his fingers, placing both of his hands under my shoulders to hold me as well, and slides into me.

I love it. The warmth. The slickness. The feel of being one with someone. Sebastian.

His powerful hips are gentle as first, just as I instruct him, rocking forward and backward until I am stretched to accommodate him. It always feels a bit tight at first, slightly uncomfortable no matter how many times he takes me in this way. There is a burning fullness that sometimes makes me feel like I'm being broken in two. Then something changes, in one magical instant I am ready, and I tell him to move, to thrust, to give me his body like no one else ever has.

Sebastian murmurs dirty things into my ear as he invades my body with his own, making me blush and moan. He tells me of how good my tight little body feels around him, how deeply I can take him in, how the heat of my soft walls is melting him. He moans about how he has been longing for this all day and could barely restrain himself from throwing me over the table during dinner. He asks me questions that I know I am not to answer, like 'You love it, don't you, little master? You can't live without this now, can you? Ohhh You want more, don't you?'

And when I toss my head and whine like a shameless, wanton animal, Sebastian joins me by growling like a lion into my neck. I was terrified when I first heard the sound, literally thinking that a feral beast had somehow made its way into the manor. It took some time for Sebastian to calm me down after that incident, let alone growl enough times for me to become used to it...even loving it. He was a beast after all. The truth remained that he was not human, and I embraced all the feral sounds he made gladly now.

He builds his pace until he is thrusting so hard against me and into me that my bed is moaning as much as I am, desperately yearning for that moment when it all comes to a brilliant, delightful end and we can both rest. I only have moments to wait this night, after such a long bout of teasing.

My flesh begins to thrum with the promise of release, the rumblings of that glorious pleasure as it feels so good. My cock pulses as that place inside me is speared over and over by Sebastian's mighty cock, causing wave after wave of electric thrills to race through my body. Then the rumblings become a roaring flood, and the fragile dam of restraint within me breaks, spilling pleasure in great gushes.

The sound I make is a high-pitched strangled one. I would never own up to making such a sound outside the bedroom. Ever. But I do make it, as I am overcome with the incandescent _goodness_ of that feeling.

Sebastian always waits until I have finished before he makes an uncharacteristic loud howl, tossing back his head to let me see his sinful face. It is contorted in a beautiful expression of pleasure; his eyebrows drawn in tight, his teeth gritted, and his eyes squeezed closed. I never tire of seeing that rare face. The one that looks so very...human.

A hot rush inside of me. The movement ends. And Sebastian's face relaxes.

He looks down at me, both of us panting hard. He smiles tenderly at me and brushes back my bangs from my face. He knows I like it when he does this. I know that is the only reason he does it. I do not care. It comforts me so.

He leans down and kisses my forehead, trailing broken kisses down the bridge of my nose and then under to my mouth. We are far too out of breath to kiss for long, and soon he breaks away to pull out of me.

It is a somewhat tragic moment, when the heat is gone and we are once more two beings rather than one. But I have done this with Sebastian enough times to know that cleanup is in order to avoid stickiness. He never leaves me waiting long, reaching for the cloth and water that he set out ahead of time, and cleaning up both quickly through our slowing breaths.

He finally crawls back into bed with me, and I snuggle up beside him. His arms are...indescribable. How can I try to interpret how much trust I have in them? How something made of flesh and bone could be my strongest shield? I know they are imbued with demonic power, but they feel so human while around me like this. I love them.

Sebastian knows I like to be held, though I have never directly told him. He knows I love to be cuddled into his strong body and stroked like one of the cats he loves so dearly. He also knows...how much I need it. I need to be 'weak' like this and draw comfort from his embrace. And he lets me. Without a single biting word he lets me. Every night.

When I'm with him, it does not matter whether I am weak, or strong. I can be as I wish without a care for what he will think or say. Because come morning, those arms will have left me and Sebastian will once more be my butler. He will dress me in cut suits. He will serve me tea with a polite smile. He will schedule my meetings and cook me meals. He will bear no resemblance to the person who made a mess of me the night before.

But that does not matter, because when the curtain of evening falls, and the binding rules of society disappear whilst their author's sleep, and prying eyes and ears are distracted by dreams, my demon and I can freely shed our daytime selves...and I can be with him.

END


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